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COMMEMORATIVE OF THE LIFE AND SERVICES 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN, 



PREACHED TO THE CAMBRIDGEPORT PARISH, 



April 23, 18G5. 



By rev. henry C. BADGER. 



BOSTON: 
WILLIAM V. SPENCER. 

1865. 






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D I S (.1 U R S E 



COMMEMORATIVE OF THE LIFE AND SERVICES 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN, 



PREACHED TX) THE CAMBRIDGEPORT PARISH, 



April 23, 1865. 




By rev. henry C. BADGER. 



BOSTON: 
WILLIAM V. SPENCER. 

1865. 



.8 
Bl3 



Cambridgeport, April 27, 1865. • 

Dear Sir, — A general desire having been expressed by the members of 
the Cambridgeport Parish, to preserve the discourse delivered by you last 
Sunday, upon the mournful event which has deprived a nation of the inesti- 
mable services of its dearly beloved and warmly cherished chief magistrate, 
Abraham Lincoln, we ask of you permission to have the same printed for 
distribution amongst the members of the parish. 



Isaac Livermore, 
George W. Kuhn, 
George H. Folger, 
George W. Colburn, 
William V. Spencer, 



Parish 
Committee. 



Rev. Henky C. Badger. 



Cambridgeport, April 28, 1865. 

Gentlemen, — In answer to your favor of yesterday, I place my manu- 
script at your disposal ; knowing that I ought not to let my feelmg of its 
unworthiness defeat the wish of the parish to give some expression to their 
grief at the nation's loss, and their feeling in view of the late momentous 
events. ' 

I remain, gentlemen, 

Cordially and respectfully. 

Your obedient servant, 

•*•. : Henry C. Badger. 

Messrs. Isaac Livermore and others. Committee.' • * 



SCTtlPTUHE LESSON. 



"OEHOLD, the Lord's hand is not shortened, that it cannot 
-^-^ save ; neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear ! 

O thou afflicted ! tossed with tempest and not comforted, behold, 
I will lay thy stones with fair colors, and lay thy foundations Avith 
sapphires. 

And I will make thy windows of agates, and thy gates of car- 
buncles, and all thy borders of pleasant stones. 

And all thy children shall be taught of the Lord, and great 
shall be the peace of thy children. 

In righteousness shalt thou be established : thou shalt be far 
from oppression, for thou shalt not fear ; and from terror, for it 
shall not come nigh thee. 

No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper ; and every 
tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt con- 
demn . 

For a small moment have I forsaken thee ; but with great mer- 
cies will I gather thee. In a little wrath, I hid my face from thee 
for a moment ; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on 
thee, saith the Lord, thy Redeemer. — Isaiah. 



SERMON. 



WHEN, three months ago, we followed to the grave 
. the ashes of Edward Everett, I took occasion to set 
before you the blessed life of that peacemaker, our patriot 
scholar, as contrasted with the life of him then chief of 
Confederate traitors, now bafHed and beaten, an outlaw and 
an exile. 

But what a new contrast is brought before our minds to- 
day I What experiences press upon our hearts ! How are 
our minds bewildered, and our bosoms wrung ! How un- 
real and visionary seems all our life, as we are led thus 
through triumph and joy, with a constantly rising pride 
and brightening hope, — the whole land full of gratulation 
and glee ; — till suddenly the cup is dashed from our hand, 
the croAvn from our head, — every heart is made sick and 
faint, while our triumphs and hopes are all forgotten in 
the one great trouble that broods in every bosom ! 

Never went a man to the grave, so loved and mourned 
as Abraham Lincoln, — so followed by the tender sorrow of 
twenty millions of his fellow-men. Never did man raise 
himself, in the brief space of four years, from utter ob- 
scurity to a place of such honorable and lasting fame, 
where he stood second to no ruler on earth in the love and 



admiration of his kind]; and where he shall stand, as long 
as men keep the record of the great and good, one of the 
most conspicuous and noble figures in history. 

The nation mourns him, indeed, but not the nation alone . 
Our nation will strive in vain to keep him as her own. 
Signal as were his services to her, treasured as his memory 
will be, other nations will claim to mingle their tears and 
praises with ours ; his deeds and his life so raise our estimate 
of human nature, so redound to the glory and good of hu- 
man kind. Considering his humble origin and obscure life, 
till called suddenly, in such a momentous crisis, to that great 
place, where the eyes of the whole anxious world were con- 
centrated upon him, — remembering the fearful labors de- 
manded of him, the awful responsibility imposed, the temp- 
tations he must meet, the heart-breaking care when he 
must bear the sorrows of the whole nation ; the reproaches 
of foes, the bewildering, discordant counsels of friends, the 
uncertainty of those providential leadings of events which 
he must watch and interpret, — remembering his course, 
how he watched and toiled and prayed ; how he overcame 
evil with good ; how he was reviled, but reviled not again ; 
suffered, but threatened not, — recalling all his faithfulness 
as a public servant, his tact and sagacity as an executive 
officer, his gentleness and true charity as an enemy of his 
country's foes, his childlike simplicity and genuineness, and, 
more than all, his thorough humility as a victor, — never in 
any triumph, personal or official, no matter what foes were 
at his feet, — not when triumphantly re-elected as Chief 
Magistrate, — not when re-inaugurated mid the flush of vic- 
tory, — not when entering Richmond, — showing the slight- 
est self exaltation or self-complacency ; growing, indeed, 
more humble as he was more exalted, — taking no glory to 
himself, but giving all the praise to his subordinates, and 



all the glory to God, — as we think of this more and more, 
we shall see that Abraham Lincoln was one of the best men, 
and one of the most extraordinary men, that God ever 
raised up to aid and encourage mankind. 

Not great, as the world judges ; not learned ; not of the 
most capacious intellect, or most indomitable ivill] not of 
great experience, save in a comparatively humble sphere, — 
he yet did a work, and has left a record, which might 
humble great and learned men, and make conquerors and 
heroes ashamed. He was, indeed, a conqueror and a hero 
of the highest type. Many have conquered others, but he 
had conquered himself; and he kept self conquered, when, 
in any other man, the evil principle would have risen up 
again to mar the bearitiful consecration and completeness 
of his life. 

Not one man in many millions could have been raised 
from comparative poverty and obscurity to such a place, 
to such a career, to such success, and not been made giddy, 
and led to play some '' fantastic trick before high heaven 
to make the angels weep." 

Nor could one man in many millions have met so much 
reviling and reproach, — been so ridiculed and traduced by 
foes without and factions within, — yet kept so sweet and 
forgiving a spirit ; been so tender-hearted and merciful, 
while constantly upbraided as a tyrant; been so ready to 
bless them that cursed him, to love his enemies, to do good 
to them that hated him, to pray for them which despitefully 
used him and persecuted him. 

This seems to me the most precious part of a memory 
whose every part is fragrant, that you cannot point to an 
utterance of his, nor recall a word or phrase, not full of 
pious humility and Christian charity. There is absolutely 
nothing to forget, and nothing to forgive. Whether he 



8 



spoke as a magistrate or as a man, — in messages, 
speeches, letters, or private intercourse ; whether speak- 
ing of foreign nations, of domestic traitors, of an opposing 
political party, or of any officer or citizen, — the country 
has yet to hear from him the word it now wishes he 
could have left unsaid. And this humble, considerate 
charity was in his speech because it was in his heart. It 
was not discretion, not guarded speech, not a result con- 
sciously aimed at : he was a frank, natural, even blunt man, 
who spoke what he thought. But he had in him, what 
David prayed for, the clean heart and the right spirit. If 
ever a man's heart was in the right place, his was ; and 
his life could not but be beautiful, when the fountain of 
it was so pure. 

Yet many a man, while right in spirit and purpose, finds 
himself wrong in deed^ because of a weak judgment or 
wavering will. But how well the hand of Abraham Lincoln 
answered to his Aeari / He made few mistakes. His deeds 
were as good as his words. Slow to decide, he almost al- 
ways decided right. He was sagacious, shrewd, and true. 
He looked into the hearts of other men as he did into 
his own. Faithful with himself, he was faithful with 
them. The young officer who came before him felt as in 
the presence of a father, and received the counsel due 
to a son. 

A friend of mine, who had been unjustly dismissed from 
the army, was re-instated on appealing to the ever-patient 
head of the nation, whose task it was to undo the evil 
deeds others had done ; but, as the President restored to 
him his commission, perceiving the young man's fault, he 
said kindly, and with a father's faithful rebuke, " Ifear, my 
young friend, that you are inclined to be quarrelsome^^ 
And when the young man, wilhng to justify himself, said 



9 

that" that might not be so grave a fault in a soldier, 
whose business was fighting, the President rejoined, " No, 
sir : you are mistaken ; I find that the quiet and peaceable 
young men make the best oflScers and bravest soldiers." 

It was this kindly faithfulness that made him so dear to 
the people as " Father Abraham." They trusted to him 
as to a father. They knew that he was diligent and con- 
scientious, patient and sincere. They saw his manly 
simplicity, his freedom from ostentation, his sadness in ad- 
versity, his humility in success, his steadfast trust in God, 
and his careworn face, as he bore all the people's sorrows 
on his heart. 

They loved him : for they knew, by a thousand kind 
deeds and words ; by his messages to the widows and the 
children; by his patience in hearing their petitions; by 
his eagerness to pardon ofienders, when justice and disci- 
pline would permit ; by his anxious care to save them suf- 
fering and suspense, as when he rode out himself, late one 
night, or in the gray of the morning (you remember the 
incident), to bear the reprieve to the poor soldier-boy, con- 
demned to die at sunrise, — they knew, by these thousand 
acts, and by the unerring instinct of their own hearts, how 
genuine was his love for them, — not the love of the poli- 
tician, but of the faithful public servant and the father of 
his people. They knew him to be, in the best sense of the 
word, a man and a gentleman ; yes, as Tennyson says, 

" One who could bear without abuse 
The grand old nanae of gentleman, 
Defamed by every charlatan, 
And soiled by all ignoble use ! " 

Such was he, one of the purest in purpose, most fault- 
less in judgment, most faithful and patient in action, most 



10 



charitable and humble in spirit ; one of the most successful 
rulers and admirable men to whom an admiring people 
ever looked up. Who can fail to see the hand of Provi- 
dence in raising up such a ruler for our people, in such a 
time as this ? and who can fail to see the ground we have 
for thanksgiving, in that this national calamity was deferred 
till his great service was rendered to us, and till the glory 
of success was secured to him ? 

Had he been assassinated four years ago, — and there 
is not a man of us but expected it then, — how different 
might our career have been ! or, had he fallen on the last 
fourth of March, — and many of us expected it then, — how 
much had even then been wanting to his joy and the com- 
pleteness of his life ! He lived to complete the great task 
he proposed to himself, when he first so quietly called the 
nation to arms. Then he took his place, scorned, hated, 
despised, — the long-spun toils of the traitors entangling 
all about his feet, — his own powers and the endurance of 
the nation alike untried. He lived to " hold, occupy, and 
possess " all those national posts whence the flag had been 
so ignominiously torn down. He lived to live down all the 
shameless calumny and reproach at home and abroad. He 
lived to see the world come round to his view, appreciate 
his character, and endorse his policy. He lived to hear the 
Charleston " Mercury " wish that Jefferson Davis were as 
wise and good as he. He lived to conquer the malice of 
foes, to win the respect of the world, and the appreciative 
love of a people proud to call him their own. He lived to 
vindicate republican institutions, himself their noblest 
product; to be the saviour of his country, the liberator 
of four million slaves ; to be a peerless conqueror, both in 
the Council Chamber and in the field ; and at last, when 
succefes had set the approving seal of Providence on his 



11 



purposes, policy, and plans, — when the Father of Waters 
rolled unvexed to the sea, — when Savannah, Charleston, 
Wilmington, Mobile, and Richmond felt the foot of Libert}^ 
on their rebellious necks, — when the crafty and insolent 
head of the Rebellion was a despairing fugitive, and its red 
right hand was stretched out to sue for peace, — when 
Libby Prison had changed inmates, and was full of rebel sol- 
diers and traitor-citizens, — when, in Richmond, Abraham 
Lincoln had had such a triumph as no man ever had before, 
receiving the blessing of them ready to perish, hearing the 
freedmen sing there their songs of jubilee, — and when, at 
the very last, the sun of that Good Friday, when he died, 
had seen the old flag set back again on Sumter's wall, and 
the nation's vow was fuljilled before God, — ^well might he 
have lifted up his hands in joyful submission to exclaim, 
" Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace ; for 
mine eyes have seen thy salvation ! '' 

That triumphal entry into Richmond was glory enough 
for one mortal to possess. We have all seen a familiar pic- 
ture of Washington's entry into Trenton, — matron and 
maid strewing roses before his charger's feet ; but what 
was that triumph, what was any triumph the world ever 
saw, save the humble entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, com- 
pared with that entry into Richmond when Freedom tri- 
umphed, while slavery and treason fled away, — when the 
emancipator of millions walked in triumph ; not with the 
uplifted head of human pride and exultation; not with 
captive queens marching before him in chains of gold ; not 
with captured banners and the spoil of cities pompously 
displayed ; not with the trumpet's blare, and herald's pro- 
clamation, ^^ Behold! the conqueror cometh I '^ — no: but mid 
the blanched cheeks of Richmond's loyal men and women, 
bringing out the dear flag they had cherished in secret ; 



12 



mid that praying, weeping multitude of freedmen, shower- 
ing prayers and blessings on his head, — where he walked, 
the humblest of them all, yet emancipator and conqueror, 
— already with the martyr's halo round his brow; and 
where there went in with him Liberty and Union, one and 
inseparable noio, now and for ever ! 

That was a scene which will live in history ; and this 
was glory enough for one mortal to possess. 

Though we mourn for him all the more sadly because of 
our success ; though we wish he could have been spared to 
see the results of his great labors and cares, and to live, as 
Washington did, midst a grateful people, — yet the coun- 
try feels that there was a wonderful completeness in his 
life, and, if violent death is ever timely, a timeliness in 
his death. 

Our hearts say to him, in trustful sorrow, — 

" Go to the grave, in all thy glorious prime, 
In full maturity of zeal and power : 
A Christian cannot die before liis time, — 

The Lord's appointment is the servant's hour. 

Go to the grave ! at noon, from labor cease ; 

Best on thy sheaves ; thy harvest work is done ! 
Come from the heat of battle ; and, in peace, 

Soldier, go home ! with thee the field is won ! " 

Yet, while the nation feels thus trustful and hopeful, who 
can foresee the result of the assassin's crime ? 

It would be interesting to consider the assassinations 
of history, their motives and consequences. 

But, for the honor of human nature, so dignified and 
adorned by Mr. Lincoln's life and character, I cannot but 
believe that his assassin is of unsound mind. The fact that 
his father was insane before him, long before quitting the 
stage ; the incoherent letters left by this assassin, genu- 



13 



ine, but obviously those of an insane man; the lono- 
brooding over this crime, and open boasting of his pur- 
pose ; the audacity and theatrical show of its execution, 
and the very craft of his escape and concealment; the 
impossibility of any good resulting to a cause already lost, 
— the absence of any adequate motive, even revenge or 
the love of notoriety, — convince me that he is a man of 
unsound mind. 

Yet, as has well been said, slavery is both the child and 
parent of barbarism ; assassination, its only fit expression. 
And he was not insane who assaulted the Secretary of State, 
striving to murder a helpless old man in his bed, his arm 
already broken. He was not insane who crept up behind 
a senator, fettered in his seat. They were not insane who 
kept Andersonville, and took Fort Pillow. They were not 
insane who, in communication with Richmond, co-operated 
with these assassins. 

We used to complain of slavery, that it fostered duelling ; 
but the duellist who confronts his foe like a man, sees him 
armed like himself, gives him due notice, and an equal 
chance for his life ; the duellist is a gentleman and a 
Christian compared with the assassin, whose deed concen- 
trates all crimes ; and, when directed against the head of 
the nation, becomes treason, treachery, cowardice, and mur- 
der, all in one, and is a fit expression of that nurse of bru- 
tality, which has poisoned our moral life, deluged the 
land in blood, given us Libby Prison and Andersonville, 
and added this crowning horror to its crimes. 

If the murderer was insane, those who aided and urged 
him on were not ; and his deed was the fitting, may it 
prove the Jinal^ manifestation of slavery! 

But the country leaps with amazing promptness to the 
conclusion, that God will overrule this calamity to our 



14 



good. Indeed, even in the midst of our grief, some do 
injustice to the dead, by claiming that we needed now a 
juster and firmer hand upon the helm. A juster, firmer, 
steadier hand upon that helm, we shall never see. And 
we wait in trembling hope to see whether another can 
show such consecration of purpose, such forgetfulness 
of past injury, such elevation of spirit, such devotedness 
and discretion, as to win the confidence of the people, 
banish their present fear, and not prolong or revive their 
regret. If there was any need of a juster, firmer spirit 
anywhere, it was not in the bosom of the President, but in 
the hearts of the people. It was not he that counted 
treason no crime. He was merciful ; he was prompt to 
forgive ; his delight was to pardon, to remit penalty, to 
modify extreme measures : but he was just, and he was 
wise. He knew that justice to traitors is mercy to man- 
kind. The convening of the rebel legislature in Richmond, 
after its capture, was no deed of his ; the attempt to treat 
with a State, as though the State had seceded or been in 
rebellion, was no mistake of his. His will ordered that 
rebel legislature away, or into prison. And the only fear 
or peril was, not that he would be too gentle, but that the 
people, overjoyed with victory and peace, would not sustain 
his hands, and permit him to be just. 

This was a grave peril, on whose brink we stood. The 
rebel Commander-in-Chief was a prisoner of war, — a 
beaten traitor, liable at any moment to the pains and 
penalties of treason ; liable at any moment to be re- 
leased from his parole, and brought before a jury of his 
peers, and sent to the scafibld as one who had violentlj^ 
attempted his Country's life, and whose hands were red 
with the blood of a hundred thousand of our brothers and 
sons. 



15 

But the people, liappy with victory and the promise of 
peace, upbraided JefFersoa Davis, yet lauded Robert Lee, 
and were ready to receive him with a hero's honors, instead 
of a traitor's infamy. The army, part of it, would sooner 
have followed him, as joint commander with our Lieutenant 
General, on an expedition into Canada or Mexico, than 
have escorted him to the scaffold. That feehng lingers 
still. Because he was so long successful in Virginia, and 
had made it all one great battle-field, red from end to end 
with patriot blood, men attributed all the infamy to the 
rebel president, but all the success to the rebel general, 
the red right hand of the rebellion. 

The nation had virtually pardoned him and his army, and 
were ready to make his red hands wdiite with the kisses of 
their forgiveness. 

Individuals cried out against it. Mourning households 
protested against it, as an outrage on the memory of their 
patriot dead. They whose hearts lie buried at Antietam or 
Gettysburg ; who weep over Malvern Hill or Fair Oaks ; 
whose kindred lie in the Wilderness or at Manassas, at 
Winchester or Harper's Ferry, by Fredericksburg or 
along the James, at Petersburg, yes, or in the nameless 
graves at Richmond ; they whose brothers and sons lan- 
guished mid the horrors of Andersonville, and came thence 
rotting skeletons or drivelling idiots, or came thence, alas ! 
no more, — these all protested against such unseasonable 
mercy to traitors, as unfaithfulness to our country's future, 
and to the memory of our dead. But our countrymen were 
not all mourners : many households had been untouched. 
Something was needed to bring this distributed grief to 
the heart of every man and woman in the laud ; and God 
permitted that assassination, — 

" When you and I and all of us fell down. 
And bloody treason triumphed over us ! " 



16 



We are one party now. We are all mourners. There is not 
a loyal eye that has not been wet with sorrow, nor a loyal 
household which has not lost a friend. The great sacrifice 
of the land is typified now in him. A few will remember 
Audersonville, a few will remember Gettysburg; but all 
will remember Abraham Lincoln, and swear by Ms memory 
that the memory of our other martyrs shall never be dis- 
graced ! 

Friends, our strife is by no means over : though we may 
hope that the great battles are all fought, our perils are far 
from past. Some of our severest trials lie in our immedi- 
ate future. And it seems as though Mr. Lincoln must die, 
that his spirit might be more efiicient in our counsels, 
guiding us aright. The land is full of prowling treachery 
and possible assassins. No officer's life is safe for a day. 
To be just, but not vindictive ; to punish, not for revenge, 
but for future security ; to know when mercy is wisdom, 
and when it is criminal weakness, — was never so desirable 
or so difficult as now. It was expedient that he should go 
away, that he might be more effectively with us in these 
days of trial. 

And if his fall unite us as one stricken household, and 
nerve the nation's hand for those necessary tasks which 
victory makes all the more painful to us ; if it evoke the 
horror of all civilized nations, illustrating anew the odious 
spirit of slavery ; if he stand as the one great symbol of 
all the fearful sacrifices the country has made, not to be 
forgotten or put aside ; and if, looking to him, the nation 
goes on now to finish its great task with the same amazing 
unanimity with which, four years ago, we began it, — we 
shall see that he both lived and died for our country ; and 
that, as Tacitus says of Agricola, he was happy, not only 
in the splendor of his life, but also in the opportuneness of 
his death. 



17 



Nor let us feel that his eyes can no longer see the re- 
demption or the future glory of the land. We wish that 
he had lived to see peace, and the wonderful revival of 
energy and hope which peace will bring. We wish that 
he could have lived to see fifty millions of people — as 
some here present will see a hundred millions of people — 
living in this happy land of freedom, and looking up to the 
one proud flag. But we wish the same for the hundreds of 
thousands of our loyal dead, lying in their nameless graves, 
scattered throughout all the land, each as much of a mar- 
tyr as he. We wish they could have lived to see even the 
happy days of victory he saw, instead of dying in hours of 
discouragement and gloom, when the nation's heart was 
faint, and her hope was dim. 

Ah ! let us not think but that they do see these days of 
chastened joy ; and that he sees, with clearer eyes than 
ours, what is, and what is to be. Let us not think but that 
those hosts of martyrs have gathered about our lost leader, 
and that there have been heavenly greetings between 
these and the patriots of an earlier day, — the Father of 
our Country welcoming that country's Saviour. We rest 
in that providence of God, and that blessed hope of the 
Immortal Life. 

When this sad news smote and darkened the land, I was 
speeding up the beautiful valley of the Merrimack ; and it 
seemed at first as though nature mocked the nation's woe, 
the sun shone so bright, the bird-songs rang so cheerily ; 
while, mid bursting buds and laughing waters, the spring- 
time, tinting the tree-tops and unrolling her living green 
along the meadows, set her glowing footprints steadfastly 
toward the North. It seemed as though Heaven mocked at 
our human grief. But, at last, the peace and calmness of 
nature stole into my heart, as I thought of that steadfast 



18 



love and care of God, wherein all things may rest ; but 
wherein we must rest with an unquestioning and a child- 
like trust. " For my thoughts are not your thoughts ; 

NEITHER ARE YOUR WAYS MY WAYS, SAITH THE LORD. FOR 
AS THE HEAYENS ARE HIGHER THAN THE EARTH, SO ARE MY 
WAYS HIGHER THAN YOUR WAYS, AND MY THOUGHTS THAN 
YOUR THOUGHTS." 



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